the Maybe Child
by outoftheashesrising
Summary: After almost a century, Helen makes a crucial decision.
1. Chapter 1

she walked into the frigid, dimly lit room hesitantly, unsure of what would greet her. it alluded her as to why she approached in such a way-the room had remained relatively the same for the past 97 years. Yes, the technology inside had improved exponentially, but the sole occupant remained unchanged. "Hello, my darling," Helen sighed as she caressed the slender glass tube resting in the freezer, "i missed you."

It was only recently that Magnus had taken to visiting her almost-child on a nightly basis. At first she was reluctant to even acknowledge its existence, deliberately housing the embryo in a small room in the basement of the sanctuary. She only came to regret that decision now, after nearly a century of watching friends and family die around her had finally taken it's tole.

the simple act of running her fingers up and down the cool glass calmed her-a simple reminder of what could be. Now,as she stood stroking the glass for a final time, she realized that she was no longer holding her maybe-child, a memento of simpler, happier times. she was holding her future-her salvation.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch 2

She didn't regret asking James for assistance. She had known him for over a century and he was the only one she truly trusted with her personal matters. Asking him to perform the procedure was an excellent decision on her part. Allowing him to stay throughout her pregnancy, however...

Not even a week had passed before James started scrutinizing Helen's daily routine.

"Four hours of sleep a night? Really, Helen, your work can surely wait a few moments while you get some rest!"

"Helen you haven't even touched your lunch!"

"Heels? A woman in your condition should consider wearing more conventional footwear!"

"Enough, James!" She had finally reached her breaking point. "We don't even know if the procedure worked!" Her voice became softer, more hesitant, "the embryo was frozen for so long, and with my 'unique' physiology…" She began to falter. She had spent the majority of her adult life under the assumption that one day she would give birth to John's child. She had never even imagined the possibility of complications until now.

"Helen, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so overbearing." he drew her close, comforting her as best he could "And as for the success of the procedure, no matter what happens, i'll be here for you-whether you like it or not."


	3. Chapter 3

It was 5:30 in the morning, and all of the sanctuary inhabitants were fast asleep, except for Helen, who was hunched over the small waste-paper basket by the side of her bed, retching mercilessly. The undesirable yet unmistakable feeling had woken her up ten minutes ago, and she had been vomiting ever since. But despite the painful rawness in her throat and the unpleasant taste in her mouth, Helen was beaming: _it worked._

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Three weeks had past, and save for one or two heavenly exceptions, Helen's morning routine had remained constant: being jolted awake hours before her alarm with only one destination in site-the waste-paper basket. Just once, she would have liked to have made it to her on suite bathroom so as to save on the clean-up, but as of yet she had had no such luck.

_This baby simply doesn't see the need for me to a) get a full night's rest or b) eat more than one meal a day, _Helen thought to herself as she was once again jolted awake by that all familiar feeling. "Won't you let mummy rest just a few minutes longer, darling?" Helen paused, resting her shaking hand on her abdomen; until now, she had never spoken to her child. She was well versed in fetal development, and was aware that an eleven week old fetus could neither hear nor understand anything outside the womb, and therefore talking held no psychological or developmental benefit. However, it just felt so _right. _"Hello there" Helen began nervously, rubbing circles over her flat abdomen "I guess I should start by introducing myself" she giggled, "I'm your mother."


	4. Chapter 4

Helen had accomplished more in her 134 years than most people could even dream of. She was conducting her own experiments by the age of 12, and creating her own inventions by 15. She was the first woman to be accepted into Oxford, and the youngest individual of either gender to graduate from their medical program. She had created and run her own private network of sanctuaries for almost a century. Hell, she had even survived the bloody Titanic. But, for the life of her, Helen Magnus could not zip up her pants.

Standing in front of her ornately carved mirror, a memento brought back from her very first trip to India, Helen stood, a look of sheer frustration painted on her tired face. _I do not have time for this, _Helen thought to herself as she continued to wrestle with the zipper. _I have a meeting with the heads of houses in an hour and I haven't even read over their reports yet. _

Helen routinely arose at least two hours before her earliest daily duties in order to have ample time to shower, make and eat breakfast, do her hair and makeup and prepare for her upcoming meetings. Even when her morning sickness began to subside, Helen stuck to her strict self-schedule, favouring earlier nights to compensate for her rigorous morning routine. However, this morning, Helen had not even had time to eat breakfast, as she had spent almost an hour trying to find an outfit that fit.

Pairs of expensive dress pants and elegant skirts lay haphazardly across Helen's four poster bed, thrown there one by one in a frenzy that only increased with each piece of ill-fitting clothing. _I could have sworn this fit me yesterday, _Helen thought to herself as she added yet another pair of pants to the ever-growing pile. _This is becoming ridiculous, _she sighed as she slumped, as elegantly as a woman raised in the Victorian era could, onto the bed. _How could I have outgrown everything I own overnight? It's preposterous! _Resisting the urge to crawl into bed and sulk the day away, Helen made one last venture into her expansive walk-in closet. As she had exhausted everything she owned from this decade, with a shudder, Helen began flipping through rows and rows of dresses untouched for decades. After attempting to ignore anything with a bustle, Helen finally found something that caught her eye: an elegant frock in a stunning dark purple. The wave of memory that overcame her was enough to make her sit down as her hands gingerly touched the dress that she hadn't seen in over a century.

She still remembered it like it was yesterday; walking into her first class at Oxford, with dozens of men leering at her, daring her to trespass onto their territory. Every man in that class looked at her with distain. Every man, except one; a younger man, with a slender, sensitive face and dark, mysterious eyes. She still remembered the first thing he said to her all those years ago when she sat beside him and he looked at her with those captivating eyes; "Excuse me, Mademoiselle, but I must say that that colour suits you. It's positively regal." "Thank you," she paused, waiting for an introduction, "John" he replied timidly. "Thank you, John."

Helen shook herself from her memories, and resumed her search with trembling hands. At the back of her closet, she found a cream coloured dress she had bought in the early twenties. _With a wide belt, _she thought to herself, _it could just pass as vintage. _

Helen removed her dressing gown as she walked back into her bedroom, dress in hand. She stopped as she passed by her mirror once again, transfixed by the woman that stood before her. She was no longer looking at Helen Magnus the esteemed scientist, she thought, as she ran her hands gently over her blossoming stomach. She was looking at Helen Magnus the mother. She smiled to herself. _I could get used to this. _


	5. Chapter 5

Nearly a century ago...

"Penny for your thoughts?" John crooned, gently caressing her face with his rough hand. "Hmmmm?" Helen uttered, having been brought back to realty by her fiancée's touch. "You seem so worried lately- not having second thoughts I hope."

"No, of course not" Helen stammered, "Just have a lot on my mind, that's all." John nodded in a manner that could only be described as condescendingly, Helen noted, when a servant interrupted the awkward interaction, notifying "Master Druitt" that a matter had arisen in the foyer which required his attention. Never in her life had Helen been more relieved.

She wasn't lying- she wasn't having second thoughts regarding marrying John. Having second thoughts implied some sort of revaluation or revelation regarding the previously made decision. Helen knew she made the wrong decision the moment she had said yes.

Helen Magnus was a lot of things, but a pessimist wasn't one of them. Well, not always. It took years of misplaced trust to kill her unwavering faith in mankind.

She knew John wasn't perfect, that there was something far more sinister to that "mischievous side" she so admired him for. And at first, she was more than happy to look past it. Yes, his temper was short, and his over-protective tendencies sometimes bordered on the controlling, but Helen saw a tenderness in John that far outshone his negative qualities. A passion unbridled by those around him. Helen was swift to ignore any glimpses at John's true colours just to feel that incomparable rush she felt whenever she was with him.

But that all changed the moment she realized she was pregnant.

After drawing conclusions based on her missed cycles and unexplainable fatigue, Helen's first instinct was to run to John to share the news. The thoughts that followed, however, gave her pause. The dangerous qualities that once invigorated her were now causing a feeling of dread to overwhelm her. How would John react? What kind of father would he be?

Not satisfied with any plausible answers she could fathom, Helen knew then and there that something had to be done. Something soon.


End file.
